


First the Empire Died

by somedayisours



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied Relationships, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somedayisours/pseuds/somedayisours
Summary: "He thinks of the slump of Din's shoulders, the pinch of his brow before he'd covered his face with his hand to cry." Mayfeld goes after The Child.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	First the Empire Died

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brown Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008015) by [Runs_With_Wolves1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runs_With_Wolves1/pseuds/Runs_With_Wolves1). 



> Title from _The Vacant Lot at the End of the Street_ by Debora Greger.
> 
> This isn't my best work, and I kinda hate it, but I hope to inspire others so I can have more stuff to read. This is meant to follow what's established in Brown Eyes up until Chapter Three. Diverges at the end of Chapter Two and onwards.
> 
> The "OC's" are both from other works of mine, some of which hasn't been posted.

The stories had always named the Jedi as child thieves, the Empire hadn't needed to teach that to their people, and it seemed the New Jedi Order looked to follow in its predecessor's footsteps. That is, to make the same mistakes.

He shouldn't be as displeased with it as he is, Mayfeld thinks. Din and his kid are two grains of sand amongst millions, nothing he should lose any sleep over.

But he does.

He'd slept well for the first time in a long time after Hess and the rhydonium plant, but 'well' had been relative to what he was used to. What little reprieve Hess had brought him was quickly lost with the Jedi, with the quest for Mandalore that Din had reluctantly submitted to.

Mayfeld knew the Jedi would go back to the New Republic to show off his student, a possibly a bid for more support. It's what Mayfeld would do, what the Jedi would do if he was smart. 

So when they dock to refuel, he steals a ship and leaves.

He's not needed to help retake Mandalore, to help give Din the throne Bo-Katan wishes so obviously for herself. He hopes Din does not hold his absence against him when he returns. He'd promised to stay around until the kid was back in Din's hands, but the other man had gotten his child back and lost him again in nearly the same breath. Ultimately Mayfeld hopes that there is something for him to return to with Din. Prison is a familiar alternative, something that might be all he deserves, but not what he ultimately wants beyond its familiar security.

On Chandrila it turns out to be no issue finding where the Jedi has gone with Din's kid, the whole planet is alive with the fact the Jedi has brought another student to be trained. It's a restoration of the old galaxy they cheer for.

The answer to the very next question finds him in the form of a young man.

"You're looking for something."

"Everyone's looking for something, whether they realise it or not." With his hand resting on his hip, above his blaster, Mayfeld slowly spins on his heel to face the other man. "You know what I'm looking for?"

The man is more of a kid, his eyes darting from Mayfeld's hip and then back to his face a couple of times before, taking a tentative step forward.

"I just know that you're looking, can taste it in the air around you."

Mayfeld doesn't like the sound of that and lets his hand drop lower to rest on his blaster for it. "Your taste code for something? People with tastes have gotten killed over them before."

The teen's eyes do another quick scan, sweeping back and forth over the empty alley before coming back to rest Mayfeld's face. "I'm a student of Skywalker's," he says with—again—another step forwards.

"The Jedi," Mayfeld confirms.

"Yes."

And there's Mayfeld's key in. "I'm looking for another student of his."

"I know. My name's Vok, and you're looking for Grogu."

"Your not wrong."

"Yeah," The kid—Vok, Mayfeld reminds himself—eye's narrow, and one of the corners of his mouth turns up. "That's the taste I was talking about."

It's a risk, but he follows the Jedi student to the Republic housing that seems to have been allotted to the Jedi and his future and current students. It's top dollar, expansive interior outfitted with modern styling and all the amenities one could ever want. But the security is suspiciously lacking. Mayfeld isn't even requested to drop his weapons at the entrance when the teen escorts him in.

The allotted Jedi quarters are much like the rest of the building he's seen, and the other apartments are most probably mirrors of as well. Styled with the same crisp grey and white interiors that'd been favoured before the rise of the Empire. When they enter there's a younger Zabrak girl sat watching a holodrama in the living area that the apartment door opens into.

"He's been crying again," is all she says, not taking her eyes off the woman wailing over her collapsed lover. "I put him to sleep."

"Ethea—"

"With a song," She interrupts, finally turning back to look at Vok instead of speaking at the holodrama.

The wailing woman has left her lover behind for a revenge quest if Mayfeld is seeing it right.

"And some food."

Vok shakes his head but leaves Ethea to her show, crossing the living space and gestures to the half-open door behind him.

"He's in here. He said you'd come for him."

And that's wrong.

"Me?"

"Well—" the teen starts, caught off-guard for the first time in their interaction. "You're his father, aren't you?"

Now Vok's on guard, seeming to realise the dangerous situation his assumption has put him and the others in.

And Mayfeld's possibly thrown it all to shit because he couldn't just keep his mouth shut and just played along.

Athea continues as she was, seemingly unaware of the building tension.

"I'm—" Mayfeld doesn't have to struggle to find the words. "—I'm Grogu's father. I just— I didn't know he thought of me as his father, that's all."

Ethea snorts to herself and Vok's shoulder's slump in relief at the lie, turning his back on Mayfeld again to gesture to the door. "He's in there."

The room is small, but not empty. Din's kid is sat in a chair next to what Mayfeld assumes is the kid's bed, slumped slightly to the side and it's eyes closed.

Grogu squeaks when he's lifted from the chair, large eyes blinking open to study Mayfeld's face. Seeming to recognize him, the kid's eyes narrow in what Mayfeld can only describe as distrust.

"I won't drop you, this time," he tries to reassure the kid with a whisper.

Grogu croaks something unintelligible in response that Mayfeld can't help but interpret as a critique.

"It's not like I meant to," he defends. "Honestly, looking back on it, I'm surprised your father didn't take my head off for that."

Grogu chirps.

Vok shifts at the doorway, purposefully loud with the scuffing of his boots.

"You should leave. Master Luke doesn't like leaving us unattended for too long."

It's with one foot out the door of the apartments that the teen speaks up again.

"Would there be a place for me if I found you?" Vok asks with a delicate voice and narrowed eyes, his face holding a carefully neutral expression.

Looking at the teen, with his scared hands and unsure eyes, Mayfeld can't find it in himself to say no. Over Vok's shoulder, still sat on the floor with her legs crossed Mayfeld catches Ethea watching him.

"If you can find us," he lies. It isn't that he doesn't want the kid, except that's exactly what it is. Just as the kid doesn't actually want him. It's just an excuse, a security, to pretend he's a better man so he can sleep through the night. Just as he'd be a temporary escape for Vok from a life he doesn't particularly want but refuses to wholly give up.

Vok, seemingly unaware of Mayfeld's inner thoughts, salutes then, straight-backed and stiff-armed like an imperial.

Mayfeld swallows the bitter taste that the image brings to mind and gives the kid a nod in return.

Far from Chandrila, he thinks of the slump of Din's shoulders, the pinch of his brow before he'd covered his face with his hand to cry. Maybe he's gone soft, but the memory of it still churns Mayfeld's gut. He'd promised the kid's return to Din then, kneeling on the ground next to him in the control room. This situation hadn't been what he'd had in mind at the time, but here they are.

From the projector on the wall, the face of a criminal is displayed for all the patrons of the local bar to see. The holo quality's much to be desired, and the angle of the shot leaves him looking a little malformed, but it's his bald head shown all the same. They've taken to calling him an Empire Insurgent, but there's no true description of the crimes they want him for. There's no mention of the kid.

He wonders what Vok and the girl said when their teacher returned to a missing child.

On his right, next to his elbow, Grogu hisses at his soup, squinting into the dark broth with eagle-eyed precision as if expecting an attack.

"It's not going to bite," Mayfeld offers as he takes a sip from his own steaming bowl.

Grogu croaks with doubt in response but seems to trust him enough to take a tentative slurp of his own.

Now Mayfeld just needs to figure out how to get the kid back to his father without a trail of two-bit bounty hunters and the New Republic enforcers on his ass to make a mess of things. A meeting point to make the exchange would be nice, but he had no way to make early contact with Din.


End file.
